


Trophy Case

by Crescent_Moon_Demon



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Games, M/M, Manipulation, Multi, Oral, Seduction, Sleeping around, Smut, Spike - Freeform, Sticky, dubcon, score keeping, valve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2713784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescent_Moon_Demon/pseuds/Crescent_Moon_Demon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*AU* "I know your games." "...Would you like to play?" Some games are better left unplayed; others, should not even be mentioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**C.M.D: This was the most recent Vortex/Fireflight fic that I last wrote, and it is by far my favourite. I definitely went in a different direction with this pairing this time and I believe you'll love the twists in here as much as I did.**   
**Originally posted on FF.net**

"A-aaahh! YES! S-sweet, Primus, th-there! RIGHT THERE!"

Vortex prided himself in what he did.

"O-oh...oh P-primus! PLEASE! O-OH P-PLEASE! I-i-i... I-i'm..."

Sure, it was only fragging. But when you had some pretty little flier bent over the bathtub and were pounding his valve within an inch of its life, you had to take some merits for yourself. Especially if you were making the said-flier scream and pant like some rutting whore, until he was hoarse and his valve a mess of over-stimulated and fried sensors.

"G-good, nngh... F-FRAG! Oh, f-frag! Harder! Aaaah! Yes... yes, yes, yes, YES! FRAG ME H-HARDER! N-NYAAAHH!"

The Decepticon cocked his helm at the mech beneath, grinning crookedly behind his mask as he increased his pace, shoving the flier's face against the bottom of the tub and tugging on a wing harshly as he pulled the other tight to his hips. His partner didn't complain -in fact, he seemed to relish all that Vortex did, especially the part when the helicopter began rolling his hips upwards with every thrust, so that his spike was ramming against a cluster of sensors hidden farther up. The mech whimpered deliriously, almost sobbing it sounded, before he gave up speech entirely and just focused on breathing in that same wheezing, erratic way as his fans squealed past max capacity.

Vortex purred a little, finding the walls of the other's valve cinch around him tighter and tighter, releasing with periodic spasms before clenching again. Primus, he was close... and so was the Autobot he was currently fragging too. The grey mech grinned again. This flier just loved being forced into the strangest of positions and he enjoyed a good, rough frag anytime and anywhere. He got off on it. So much in fact, that the Autobot could be soaking wet before Vortex had even ripped back his codpiece.

His partner gave another gurgled gasp, which turned into a drawn-out moan as the Decepticon rammed deeper inside his port, causing his hips to slam against the side of the tub with bruising force. That had apparently been the last straw for the barely-holding on flier, because suddenly Vortex's spike was being flooded by a tide of boiling lubricants before the walls shivered and seized up -squeezing around his spike with painful ferocity. Gritting his denta in hissing bliss, Vortex rode out his own overload; ripping his member out and forcing it back into the swollen passage, over and over again.

He started pulling out as transfluid shot from his spike, watching in glee as it bubbled from the Autobot's tight valve to the floor below, smearing the red plating in its lovely, pale lilac shade. The flier moaned in loss as he withdrew, his aft wriggling wantonly, seeking out the spike that had just left it. The little dance caught Vortex's attention, and he salivated at the chance at having another go at the mech. But being the little temptress that he was, the other's plating was quick to slide back into place, covering him and his dirty valve once more, just as the helicopter's fingers had gotten close.

"What? Were you looking for more?," the Autobot chuckled as he glanced over a shoulder wearily, trying to push himself up with his shaking arms.

"Maybe later," Vortex purred, smacking the aft still proudly displayed to him. His partner gasped, arching upwards with a grin; his neural net obviously still pleasantly charged from their interface. Something sweet accosted his olfactory sensors, and the Decepticon glanced down at the flier curiously, perplexed by the scent's presence.

But nothing of that sweet a nature was coming off of the Autobot before him, and the smell itself was different from the lovely aroma the other's lubricants usually carried. Frowning in confusion, Vortex looked behind him, but saw no one and nothing else in the bathroom with them.

"I guess that means you've gotta go."

The flier was speaking again. The helicopter turned his helm down to the cocky jet, who was slowly pushing themselves up onto their pedes, emitting breathy little moans and hums of pleasure as he did. Blue optics sparkled up at him mischievously. "Gonna come by again anytime soon?," he asked the Decepticon.

The grey mech smirked. "Depends on how loud you beg, lil' Air Raid," he laughed, grabbing the Autobot's chin and cocking his helm up at him.

Air Raid grinned back just as wildly. "See you soon then," he purred, dipping a servo down his stomach plating and towards his codpiece. "Because I know a certain someone's gonna need the 'perfect touch' again before long."

Always such a temptation...

Vortex grasped the flier between his thighs quickly, enjoying the little mewl he made, before releasing Air Raid entirely and leaving the bathroom. Humming to himself merrily as he skipped down the stairs and out of the Autobot's house.

**XXXXX**

He liked it when they snarled.

If the helicopter had to choose which type he liked best, well... the one who'd asked the question would have to wait a long time before he answered. Vortex liked them all. The ones that begged and screamed to be fragged harder, who liked it rough and practically sat waiting with their afts propped high in the air, were fun, yes, but he couldn't just stay with that one type.

The flier beneath him growled and cursed colourfully, unable to spit up in his face, though the Decepticon was sure the other very much wanted to. Vortex grinned at that. He forced the Autobot to fold further, rotors shivering as he heard that hateful, little hiss escape his partner, followed by hooked fingers starting to attack his frame. Their blunt clawing sent his sensory grid into a frenzy, making the sweet valve he was slamming into all the more delicious.

"What's wrong, Slingshot?," he hissed, bending low to be closer to the jet, rolling his hips forward and striking hard against the other's sensors to drive his words further home. "Too much bark, and not enough... _bite_?"

Slingshot snarled like an enraged beast, his fingers trying to break through Vortex's visor to tear out his optics, even as the flier's legs cinched tighter around his waist, keeping the Decepticon buried good and deep into his aching valve. Vortex chuckled as the jet's lubricants squelched wetly between their two frames as he picked up the pace, slamming the Autobot into the floor as he pounded harder. The concrete scratched harshly at the flier's wings and he growled and hissed in vicious delight at the painful sting it caused.

Vortex licked his lip components behind his mask, his visor glowing brightly at the erotic face Slingshot made, before it contorted beautifully into a ugly snarl just as the jet spasmed violently; cursing and gasping to the garage ceiling above as he splashed lubricants everywhere.

Again, that sweet smell...

It wafted in from somewhere, almost halting the Decepticon's own overload. Of course, buried as deep as he was and with the power he was packing, it was kind of hard to keep from _not_ filling the violent, little jet up. His thoughts slightly preoccupied by the delicious scent, Vortex said his goodbyes to Slingshot and promised to be back again to shove him against the next hard surface available. The Autobot told him to shove it up his aft and frag himself.

**XXXXX**

It had become like a game now. Vortex hummed, one servo clasping the back of the Autobot's helm, the other scissoring and stretching the pliant valve.

"Mmm... just like that. Suck a little harder, bookworm," he commanded, grinning in delight as a single twist of his fingers got the flier to do just that.

It had all started with a little offer from Air Raid, after meeting the mech outside some bar in downtown Iacon, and yet certainly the red jet would not have expected things to blow to this proportion. He'd tempted the Decepticon with free, no-strings attached interfacing... brought him home... And now Vortex was having the time of his life, trying to seduce and frag every little jet in this place. Air Raid, obviously, was an easy lay. Slingshot always took some wrestling, but that made getting the jet underneath him all the more sweeter. He'd had yet to bother with Silverbolt (because he was just down-right displeasing and a major turn-off to the helicopter. Maybe if he bound him...?) and Skydive had only taken the course of an orn to convince to suck him off.

Truly, Vortex would have preferred the shrewd's valve, but having that anxious mouth trying to swallow him down as he finger-fragged his untouched valve was also a nice reward.

"Nngh... yes. Yessssssssss. Come on, Skydive, put a little more _effort_ into it," he growled, smirking as he heard the flier gag a little; his throat cables spazzing around his spike's tip as he pushed the Autobot's helm further down.

Claiming afts was nice. It was like his own little trophy collection, and Vortex always got the better end of the deal afterwards. Of course, nothing was better than a game, especially when the game was bend as many of the Autobot brothers over in their own home, without anyone being any of the wiser to the fact that the helicopter was fragging each of them.

So far, he was winning.

The Decepticon's fans kicked up a notch as he bent forwards further, shoving his spike deeper into the moist cavern, his fingers viciously plunging into Skydive's compliant valve; lubricants bubbling and squelching out and down the trembling thighs with every rapid thrust. They were giving off a delicious aroma that made Vortex want to bury his face between the Autobot's thighs and eat him out. "Yes... Just like that. Take more of it; c'mon, swallow more," he hissed, denta bared as he guided the Autobot's helm to bob faster. "Yeah... take all of it in. Use that glossa like a regular whore."

Apparently, the bookworm enjoyed dirty talk.

Vortex chuckled breathlessly as he felt Skydive almost bite around his spike as the flier suddenly crashed through his overload, his denta grazing the shaft deliciously and pushing the helicopter to meet his own peak as throat cables clenched around the tip. Humming contently, he continued to frag the smaller mech's mouth, milking himself until he felt he'd had enough. Skydive practically tore away as soon as the Decepticon's servo had left his helm, gagging and coughing; transfluids -most of which he had not been able to swallow- gushing out past swollen and trembling lip components, splattering across the floor.

The other mech opened his mouth to make a lewd comment, when again he smelled that delicate scent, almost unnoticeable over Skydive's lubricants coating his fingers and the flier's thighs.

**XXXXX**

"Hey... you look like you could use some help?"

A white helm rose uncertainly, blue optics narrowed at the other, before Silverbolt shyly glanced away; the suspicion fading from his gaze. "No thank you," he replied, "I'm quite alright." He obviously wasn't, since he almost dropped the load he carried in his arms once again.

Vortex grinned behind his mask, grabbing the outer most bags of groceries and taking them from the jet before he could protest. He almost lost it when he saw the other mech hesitate, before blushing and glancing away in mock irritation. Stage one was complete.

"So, tell me about yourself," the helicopter started, gently nudging Silverbolt, purposefully brushing up along the other's wide wings. Of course the Autobot gave a little gasp at the contact, taking a step to the side to distance himself from Vortex. It was almost cute to watch, because the grey mech had seen all the others do the exact same thing in the beginning... before he had them pinned to some sort of surface and screaming in ecstasy.

"I don't see why a stranger would be interested in me," Silverbolt said, his wings flickering nervously behind him. Vortex automatically stepped closer, but turned his helm slightly off to the side, to make himself seem less threatening.

"Ah, well, I've seen you around and whatnot. You always seem to be very busy... but very lonely. Care for a friend?," he answered slyly, glancing quickly at the Autobot. "I'm okay with being just the 'bot that lends you a helping hand, if that's all you want."

Oh... he had him! Hook, line and sinker.

The Decepticon grinned viciously behind his mask as Silverbolt looked forwards again, his optics lowered demurely and his lip components trembling faintly as he clutched the groceries closer to his chestplates. The look of a chaste mech trying to remain sensible even in the face of a sweet temptation.

"W-well, I, u-umm," the flier hurried to clear his vocalizer of its tremor, "I... I certainly could use the help getting these home. Because, apparently, I have severely over-estimated how much I could handle on my own."

"Hey; no worries," Vortex soothed innocently, leaning forward an inch, allowing one of his rotors to brush against a flickering wing. The appendage practically shivered at the faint touch, almost drawing a rev from his engines in delight. "We all make mistakes; it's what makes us what we are."

Blue optics glittered in rapidly growing adoration, and the helicopter mentally checked Silverbolt off of his list. With the way things were going now, it wouldn't take long for him to have the flier spread and open beneath him, panting like the whore he probably was. All of the jets seemed to be little prostitutes, trying to pass for sweet, innocent virgins.

Grinning at the impeding victory, Vortex skipped alongside the Autobot, keeping up the mundane conversation until he got the other home.

**XXXXX**

Vortex licked his lip components as he exited the pantry, shutting the door behind him softly as he glanced around. So far, there seemed to be no one else home, and for that, the helicopter was glad. The game could only continue if he remained inconspicuous, after all. Wiping the transfluid off from his pelvic plating, Vortex stalked silently down the hallway, making his way for the front door. He paused though when he smelled that same delicious scent that had been bothering him for the past couple months.

Visor dim, the Decepticon slowly turned on the spot, olfactory sensor sniffing the source out, until he came face to face with a door. For a klik, Vortex stood there, confused. He didn't recall there being another door on the ground level between the kitchen and living room. Curiosity was growing within him, same with that maddening desire to know exactly what was creating that smell and why it persisted on harassing him. Denta bared slightly, Vortex grabbed the doorknob, twisting and pushing the door open slowly.

A splash of colours met his optics, brighter and more wild than the helicopter had been expecting. Disturbed, but also tempted, the Decepticon poked his helm further inside the room, slowly surveying this new area. Aside from the colours, the second thing that popped out at him were the mountain of toys and dolls that were scattered across the floor in random and messy intervals. All well played with and snuggled.

Was this a nursery?

And for whom, Vortex pondered, for once very lost. He'd thought that there had only been four Aerialbot brothers... had he assumed wrong?

Something jingled loudly from the front of the house, followed by a round of cheerful laughter and muffled voices talking amiably. Scowling at having his search cut short, Vortex quickly pulled his helm out from the room, shutting the door behind him and padding into the kitchen and out the back door silently, just as people started coming through the front. He would have to come back and poke around further another orn, the Decepticon decided, when he'd have more of a chance to snoop about without the worry of being interrupted.

Vortex grinned.

He supposed that meant he'd have to call on Air Raid or perhaps even Slingshot for some more fun.

**XXXXX**

He didn't know who his brothers' new friend was... but he was fascinated by him.

Call it childish curiosity if you will, but little Fireflight -the youngest of the aerialbot brothers- was enthralled by the stranger that came over often to their house. The Decepticon never saw him, mostly because Fireflight was shy and didn't like meeting new people, and partially due to the fact that the flier was usually sneaking about anyways whenever he knew Vortex was around.

He knew the things he did to his brothers...

Their carrier didn't know, nor did their sire, for surely if they did, they would not allow the helicopter near their home ever again. Fireflight wasn't really sure his big brothers knew that Vortex did those things to all of them, because they never talked about their friend and kept his existence like a special secret they alone bore.

Of course, that was silly. The only real secret was the fact that the grey mech touched and played with them all, without anyone being any the wiser -a secret that only Vortex and Fireflight knew. It made the youngling's spark swell giddily and his wings flutter.

He knew he shouldn't have felt that way, he was well aware that wasn't right. He was young and naive and much more innocent than any of his brothers, but the little jet couldn't help but to feel that he and the Decepticon shared some sort of special bond now. And to think, it had all started out as an accident. Fireflight had come back home from being at the park one orn, intent on gathering some toys, when he heard strange noises coming from above. He tip-toed upstairs, but stopped at the landing, ducking down in a panic and peeking over the banister to Air Raid's room. His brother had left his berthroom door wide open, displaying for the entire world to see as he was pressed into the far wall; a strange helicopter moving jerkily before the other jet, making his brother scream and cry weirdly.

The sight had terrified him the first time and Fireflight had snuck back out of the house and hid in the backyard until he saw the mysterious mech leave. He never would have thought the Decepticon would have returned, but return he did, and he continued to do these weird and secretive things to his brother.

Curious by nature, the little jet couldn't help but to peek into the room whenever he heard the tell-tale signs of Vortex's presence, watching with rapt attention as the helicopter fragged Air Raid. That's how he learned the stranger's name. That's how he learned what his spike and valve were made for. That's how he came to understand what interfacing was.

Slowly but surely, Fireflight came to learn more about this stranger, and he watched, with some manner of confusion, as Vortex began to approach his other brothers; seducing them into letting him play and touch them as well. The youngling knew a game when he saw one, and that's exactly what Vortex was doing. He was playing a game.

The Decepticon felt no love for his brothers. He just liked touching them and 'facing with them, in every way and manner that he could.

That should have made Fireflight angry; should have made him upset on behalf of his brothers and even wary of the helicopter and all that he represented. But the Autobot wasn't afraid. He didn't fear anything from Vortex. No... instead he felt... somewhat attached to Vortex and waited impatiently for it to be his turn in the grey mech's mean game. Watching Vortex had awakened Fireflight's own sexuality and slowly it became hard for the youngling not to want the Decepticon's touch as well.

He spent many nights unable to recharge until he had ground into his own servo (still too anxious to pull back his codpiece to fist himself or even break the seal across his valve), causing a small and quick overload -just enough to let Fireflight go back to sleep. Yet he dreamed of Vortex all the same and his body's ache grew even stronger. He wanted -no, needed- Vortex's touch.

But maybe the Decepticon really didn't care to play with him...

Vortex never came to his room; never tried to talk to him on the street or seduce him. Vortex probably didn't even know he existed, nor cared.

Spark withering with the fresh and new stings of disappointment, Fireflight prepared himself to stop thinking about the helicopter and to move past this idea of being chosen to play in the game next. He had everything planned out too...

And then Vortex had opened his berthroom door that orn, after he had finished with Silverbolt, and the youngling felt his circuits hum with anticipation.

Maybe he wasn't out of the game just yet.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't hard to catch himself a glimpse of this unknown flyer.

Vortex shifted easily against the tree, nibbling casually on a piece of rubber as he watched through a part in the leaves as dawn slowly rose on the neighborhood; passively rousing everyone to their pedes. It wasn't long after that 'bots started to emerge from their homes, heading in whichever direction they needed to go that orn. Not interested in any of the others, the Decepticon kept his gaze fixed on the humble home directly across the street, visor gleaming and a slow smirk curling under his mask as finally mechs were exiting through the front door.

First, came Silverbolt and Skydive (both looking so quaint and nerdy), with Air Raid following after their heels a klik later. A giant flyer stepped out of the home next, joined by a smaller mech that both looked and seemed annoying just by the way he held himself. Still, the two kissed and the second mech left in the opposite direction of the younglings.

The parents, Vortex noted to himself. Crossing his arms behind his helm, he shifted against the tree again; rubbing his rotors against the bark, purposefully irritating the plating. The giant flyer stood on the front step still, moving only an inch when a smaller, cursing blur tore out of the house next. Vortex chuckled softly, able to recognize Slingshot from anywhere with that mouth of his.

So far, that made six.

Ignoring the fact that the parents were still strangers to him, there was the unexplained seventh aerialbot that he had yet to see. 'Come on,' Vortex silently urged, sitting up further, leaning toward the gap, 'Show me who you are.'

He wasn't made to wait long.

At first, he had almost not noticed the last of the family leaving, until he realized that the older flyer was lifting someone up into the air; speaking and kissing their helm before resting the other back down onto their pedes. Visor gleaming brightly in surprise, the helicopter watched as the tiny mech skipped down the path, away from his home and his carrier, with a wave and a flutter of his white wings. Alone, Vortex was able to study him wholly and he was... he was...

_Gorgeous._

The word offered itself immediately in his processor, and the grey mech didn't bother to fight it. Young (maybe about sparklings years. Hardly a youngling really), the final aerialbot was white. Pristine white, from helm to pede, with just a splash of red and baby blue here and there across his frame. He positively glowed, with no sign of denting or dirt to mar his pretty plating; his pale grey cheekplates tinged a soft magenta as he smiled brightly at every 'bot that paused to say hello to him. His laughter sounded like little bells ringing; precious blue optics shuttering in his amusement and white wings flickering, drawing the whole of Vortex's attention.

Following the sharp, delicate angles of his wings, the Decepticon allowed his gaze to glide down the sparkling's backstruts, biting his lip component lightly as he outlined slender, white thighs leading up to a nicely shaped, red aft. Again, no dents, no scratches, no marks or evident signs of repaint. This aerialbot was like the epitome of virginity... and he was making Vortex start to salivate.

Circuits humming softly, the helicopter inched forwards more on his perch, trying to keep his optics locked on the tiny Autobot as he wandered down the street. Normally, Vortex didn't care for sparklings. They were loud, annoying, dirty and utterly not worth his time. But this one... oh, this one looked so sweet. Like pure, electric-blue bolt berries on top of a soft, energon sundae and drizzled with rich, succulent tar sauce. The mech's visor gleamed as he quickly scrambled through the tree, climbing to the top and hopping over to a nearby roof; crawling across its surface, keeping low and out of sight, but peeking frequently to make sure he still had the little flyer in his sights.

He was the fitting piece to fill his trophy case. If he was speaking in terms of medals, Air Raid and Silverbolt had been bronzes. Slingshot, a silver. Skydive a passing gold. But this one... this final, unknown aerialbot... Oh, oh, Vortex purred, dropping to the ground and keeping pace with the flyer through some bushes. This little one, he would be his much hungered for platinum. What a lovely, shiny addition he would make to the rest of his collection.

Drawing closer, the Decepticon readied himself for the first step in his infallible seduction, but was halted by a small gaggle of sparklings rushing towards his target. Biting back a snarl, Vortex forced himself to duck lower in his hiding spot, sulking slightly at his spoiled chance.

"Fireflight! Fireflight, you gotta come and look at this!"

"Yeah, we found some crystal flowers sprouting behind the track! They're really pretty!"

The sparklings grabbed the flyer's servo, gently tugging him forwards to the school just down the block, their frames bouncing in place excitedly. Giggling, the aerialbot let himself be led forwards, wings fluttering eagerly behind him. "Okay, okay!," he replied, "I'm coming. Let's go see the flowers!"

Fireflight, huh? Vortex scratched slowly at his mask, grinning widely beneath it. Even his name was lovely, like something a child would give to a precious toy. Watching as his prey was pulled away by friends, his visor fixed predominantly to those pretty wings and aft, the Decepticon set to scheming; already relishing the victory to come. With a prize like that, practically hidden from him, Vortex knew it was going to be a treat he would enjoy again and again and again...

**xxXxXxx**

It was getting late. Twirling his crystal flower gently between two fingers, Fireflight attempted to make his way home, enraptured by the way that the grooves and edges of the delicate, pale blue plant caught the setting sun; making the crystal flare up wildly in hypnotic swells of orange, red and tangling wisps of golden-tainted cerulean. He would set this one in his favourite vase and place it by his window, the flyer thought.

Suddenly, the swirling flame colours disappeared as blue dipped and melded into a spectrum of greys and dark indigos, catching the youngling off-guard. Realizing that his source of light had been blocked and thus, his path, Fireflight slowly raised his helm, shuttering his optics innocently up at the mech towering over him.

Vortex, he wanted to whisper, but wisely silenced his vocalizer before even a sound could escape.

Still, it was a challenge to fight down his rising smile. It was his turn now.

The Decepticon tilted his helm as he looked down at the small Autobot; fingers scratching idly at his mask, and visor dimming in feigned embarrassment. "H-hi... um...," Vortex started politely, no hint of intent or deviousness in his vocalizer, "Listen, I know it's late and I really don't want to frighten you or stop you from getting home to your creators, but...w-well, uh... I-i'm a little lost..."

Fireflight didn't mind or care about the lie. He knew this was how you played the game. He'd studied enough of Vortex's actions to learn all the tricks. He did step back an inch though, when the helicopter leaned down to be more level with him, rotors tucked back in contrite plea. "C...c-could I ask you to help me?," he requested. "I s-swear, I don't mean any harm, I j-just... I'm trying to find Turnabout Drive, and well... I g-guess I kinda got turned about..."

At the slight joke, the jet could not hold back a small smile. Grasping his flower firmly in one servo, he used his other to take Vortex's servo, watching unabashedly as the red visor gave a slight wink at his surprising response. "It's alright," Fireflight assured sweetly, wrapping his fingers around the larger palm, "I can show you the way!"

"...t...thank you," Vortex replied slowly. He straightened up, but did not shake or pull his servo free from the smaller mech's grip; instead, the jet was certain those darker fingers tightened an inch or so around his own servo, and it was hard for him not to blush giddily.

Turning his helm forward quickly, Fireflight started leading them in the fore-mentioned direction that the Decepticon had lied about. Thankfully, or not, Turnabout Drive was the next corner over from his school. Pausing at the street corner, the youngling smiled up at his companion, pointing directly at the sign across the road. "That's Turnabout right there," he said, "Really easy to miss sometimes, but that's okay. I'm happy to help anytime."

He stood, his blue optics fixed on Vortex, watching and waiting to see what the helicopter would do next. Would the older mech continue their charade? Would he take him somewhere hidden to continue with his own mean games? Or, would they keep making moves around each other, slowly progressing through the steps in the game...?

Vortex untangled his servo from the jet's, bending a little again and patting the youngling's helm gently. "Thank you very much for your help...umm..."

So he was going to prolong the tricks then. Fireflight felt a small flicker of disappointment, but quickly squashed it, smiling brightly up at the other. "Fireflight," he chirped, eager to give his name to the Decepticon. He hoped Vortex would whisper it to himself often, branding it into his memory archives. "My name is Fireflight."

The helicopter's rotors gave a faint twitch. "Vortex," he returned, patting the Autobot's helm again as he stood up straight. His visor brightened a tad in a way that Fireflight had become used to seeing when the bigger mech was excited. His wings fluttered slightly without his say so, reacting in response to the quiet thrill that ran through him at that look. Immediately, Vortex's rotors gave another twitch.

"Thank you kindly for your assistance, Fireflight. You should probably run along home now... It's getting dark and it's not safe for pretty 'bots like yourself to be out all alone. I hear that there's some bad mechs around."

'Yes, I know,' Fireflight thought, but did not say. Pressing his flower to his chestplates, he waved shyly at Vortex. "Goodbye Mr. Vortex," he smiled. "Please be safe." Not waiting for a response, he turned and started trotting back home; more than certain he felt an intense gaze fixed on his backstruts as he headed back towards his house.

This time, he didn't bother holding back his smile or blush.

**xxXxXxx**

Fireflight skipped through the playground, taking care to dodge and twirl around the older mechs, hurrying for the only clump of crystal trees that grew high in this part of the field. Double-checking behind him quickly to make sure the game hadn't quite started, he giggled and ducked behind the thick trunks, taking care to walk around the small crystal flowers growing along their base. He was so focused in his task, not wanting to crush a single one, that he didn't notice the mech until he had practically walked into him.

Shuttering his optics in mild surprise, the youngling slowly lifted his helm, staring up at the red visor glowing down on him. "H... hello Mr. Vortex," he smiled, optics glittering radiantly.

The helicopter lifted a servo in a half-wave. "Hello Fireflight," he said, "I wanted to thank you for your help the other night and I figured I'd check the school here to see if you attended. I'm very glad to see that you do."

His wings fluttered a little at the words, but he had always known Vortex would come back. The game had only started for them, and the little jet was eager to get his turn. "Yep," he continued, keeping the pretense that he never had seen this 'bot before, "Me and my brothers have all attended here since we were teeny tiny 'bots. They're older than me, in the final grades."

"Ah... So you have brothers. That's nice," Vortex replied. "How many?"

His servo came down gently, curling around Fireflight's nose cone. With barely any pressure, he led the youngling away from the trees, right up to the fence but a couple metres behind them. Vortex sat, legs spread, and Fireflight followed his lead; seating himself between the two limbs as well. The servo stayed where it was as Vortex leaned forward a bit to continue their discussion, his thumb stroking slowly, almost innocently, over the red plating.

He knew it was not though. "I have four of them, sir," the jet answered, smiling warmly up at the helicopter. He tried not to shiver or curl forward more into the light petting, knowing that he should play ignorant to it. After all, he would hardly notice such a ploy coming from anyone else. "Silverbolt is the oldest, then there's Skydive, Air Raid and Slingshot. They're all really smart and strong and popular. They have lots of friends!"

"They seem like very good mechs indeed," Vortex said. "It's no wonder you're such an angel. With brothers like them, you are well looked after. No doubt your creators have taught you all well." The grey mech rested his helm on his fist, his other servo sliding down a few inches. Spark pulsating just a few astroseconds faster, Fireflight tried not to gasp at the sensual touch, cheekplates slowly warming.

The youngling opened his mouth to say something, when the shriek of his fellow classmates erupted behind him, startling him. With no choice, Fireflight glanced quickly over his wings, afraid they had been seen. Thankfully, there was no one there, but now he was reminded of just how precarious a situation he was in. If anyone spotted them -anyone at all- then they would run and tell a teacher. Vortex would be reported, his parents informed and the game would end long before Fireflight had his turn. That was something he didn't want happening.

"I suppose I shouldn't keep you long from your friends," Vortex spoke up behind him. Disappointed, the jet faced him again. The older mech hid his own annoyance well. "You were playing a game, right?"

"Mhmm," Fireflight nodded, "Hide and Seek."

"A lovely game, indeed," he added. Red visor glowing momentarily, the Decepticon removed his servo from Fireflight's nosecone, reaching into subspace and pulling out a small item. It turned out to be an energon pop, that he held out for the youngling to take innocently. "A treat for you," he explained. "As thanks again for helping me find my way."

"Oh! Thank you!," the jet beamed, taking the goodie. He quickly stripped it of its plastic seal, opening his mouth and sliding the treat onto his glossa, before soft lip components wrapped around it entirely. The Autobot chirped a little as his sensors buzzed happily at the sweet taste; optics half-onlined discretely, watching Vortex. At his cute response, the black rotors twitched.

"You... you go and have fun now," Vortex said, gently grasping Fireflight under a wing and helping both of them get to their pedes. "Enjoy your treat, Fireflight."

The helicopter turned to leave and Fireflight made show of walking back to the crystal trees, before he stopped momentarily, looking to the mech. "Vortex...," he started softly, taking the energon pop out of his mouth.

The Decepticon stopped, looking back at him. "Yes?"

He barely needed to act his time. "W-will... Can I s-see you a-again?," he shyly asked, pede slowly scuffing against the ground. Vortex was quiet for almost a whole klik -long enough for Fireflight to feel a little silly at his brazen question and turn his optics to his pedes demurely. "I-i..."

"If you want," came the tempting reply. The youngling gasped a little, helm snapping up. Immediately, his optics were drawn into the band of red staring at him intently; certain that there was a smirking mouth behind that grey mouthguard. "Goodbye, Fireflight. I shall see you soon."

Fireflight barely had a chance to nod, before Vortex was turning around and walking away again. Another bout of giggling shrieks distracted the Autobot, and when he looked back to where the helicopter was, it was only to see that Vortex had disappeared completely from sight.

No matter.

Slipping the treat back into his mouth, the youngling turned with a skip and a hum towards the playground; returning his focus back to his classmates and their own silly game, processor already lost in rapid thoughts and ideas.

**xxXxXxx**

He was back to his most favourite of habits: prowling. Deft fingers slipped between the window, pushing it open just enough to slip under the stronger metal and twist the lock; allowing him to push the entire thing open with barely a sound. Grinning viciously beneath his mouthguard, the Decepticon climbed into the room, audio sensors perked for any suspicious noise.

He heard nothing unusual though as he tip-toed across the room for the youngling tucked into the berth along the far wall, recharging without a care in the world. His red visor glowed like a beacon in the night.

Vortex had spent so long now, watching him. Fireflight, that is. It had almost been a whole quartex since he'd started his game, most of which he'd spent merely studying his new prey. Normally he wouldn't have bothered wasting so much time, but he knew the moment he saw the youngling, Fireflight was special.

The way he laughed, the cute smiles the little jet always wore; his optics large and curious, and full of so much life and innocence. Even now, when asleep, that aura of purity clouded the recharging mechling. Cheekplate pressed into his pillow, mouth against the back of a plushie he clutched to him in recharge, Fireflight was beyond adorable. He was such a glorious prize... but he had to be hunted carefully first.

Like a fruit, he had yet to ripen; only when he was ready, would he be the sweetest reward. Pick too soon -approach too fast and scare the prey- and everything would be a waste. A decent frag, not to be confused, but certainly no where near the delicacy that Fireflight could be given the right amount of hunting time.

Oh, but was waiting such a _torture_.

The grey mech neared the Autobot's berth, standing above him for a klik before he slowly knelt beside Fireflight. The succulent scent of energon berries and crystal frost hit his olfactory sensors as he drew closer, making Vortex salivate. He'd watched the youngling long enough to know that he never wore any sort of perfumes or waxed, yet he always looked so and smelled like the prettiest thing on Cybertron. It was a wonder that no one else had yet dared to ensnare this unsuspecting thing.

Better for their sanity that no one had as well. Fireflight's existence had been a surprising discovery, but so wonderfully such.

"...and soon, you'll be all mine," Vortex purred softly, leaning closer. His wily fingers gently slid the thermal sheet back; servo running down the side of the slumbering jet's helm, over his shoulders and along the perfect curve of his nosecone. Closer they slid, to the edge of Fireflight's wings, and more importantly -his aft- but surprisingly, the Decepticon came to a stop.

"Mmmm...," he hummed to himself, daring to lean so close as to brush his mouthguard near the youngling's helm. "Another time," he whispered lowly. "When you're all good and ready, my tender lil' one, I shall take you. And you will _scream_ my name."

A creak upstairs drew the helicopter's attention, forcing him to hold still for a moment. Only silence reigned above though for the next klik. Certain that he had not been caught, Vortex smirked to himself; rising to his pedes and slinking back to the window from once he came. His watching, for tonight at least, had come to an end.

As soon as the pane was closed and locked once more, blue optics onlined, shining brightly in the direction that the Decepticon had just left.


	3. Chapter 3

**C.M.D: Suggested listening -E.V.O.L by Marina and the Diamonds**

The game was progressing well, or so he believed. Shivering at the little chill that went up his spinal struts, Fireflight giggled, pressing his two dolls forward into a kiss. He felt nervous sometimes, he wouldn't lie, but the game hadn't stopped yet, and Vortex always moved forward one more step. From polite conversation, insignificant gifts and the barest of touches, things had progressed to more frequent visits, bolder questions and closer contact. There was also the helicopter's midnight visits, which Fireflight was aware of as well, growing longer and more frequent in number.

Would the grey mech make the final move in the pitch black of night? Under the sensors of his entire family above? Or would the Decepticon make a more dangerous and public checkmate, claiming the Autobot in the light of a new orn? A chill of excitement ran down Fireflight's spinal struts. He silently hoped that it would be during the orn, Vortex taping at a window with one claw and grinning hungrily, before climbing in and taking his turn with the youngling.

Another series of giggles escaped the jet as he rolled over, staring at the ceiling while his intakes evened out. What if it never happened...? Fireflight paused, swallowing slowly. What if Vortex got tired of the game, went to someone else, or worse, chose one of his brothers ultimately? After all, it was just for fun but even rotating turns could get boring. Or what if the rules changed or he broke one of them and Vortex withdrew because cheaters never won anything, not even...? The youngling slowly sat up, staring worriedly at the toys scattered across his room. He was growing up...

Changing...

And with that change came something even more frightful than he could have thought imaginable.

His tender spark and the slow-budding realization of how very, _very_ fragile it really was.

**xxXxXxx**

Playing a game like his took patience. It took perseverance and will-power and adaptability.

"A-aah! Ah! Pr-primus!"

And any smart mech would always have an outlet handy -like a sleazy, wet-and-ready aerialbot.

Vortex hummed, watching through slitted optics as Air Raid squirmed in his lap, hips rolling forward, spitting out and swallowing Vortex's spike back up in one, continuous, fluid motion. The jet groaned under the Decepticon's scrutinizing gaze; fingers scratching deeper marks into the grey chestplates.

"You're leaving a mark," the helicopter teased, enjoying the way the Autobot rocked weakly in his lap at the statement.

"I-i... I can't...," Air Raid whimpered, snarling a little toward the end. "A-aft, just, j-just roll over a-and frag me right!"

A chuckle escaped the Decepticon as the aerialbot bucked wantonly in the larger mech's lap, despite his recent statement. "Now, now, Airy," Vortex purred, watching with shining optics as the Autobot started panting hard, wriggling and writhing on his pressurized spike in delicious friction. It made the grey mech lick his fanged denta hungrily.

"Don't you know nothing in life comes free?," he added, taunting Air Raid further with a short buck of his own hips. "You gotta work hard for what you want, dollface. And right about now, I think you _really_ want to overload."

His younger partner almost sobbed, nodding his helm rapidly in admission. Of course, Vortex already knew how close Air Raid was. After all, the lil' whore had been the one to call on him first... He wanted to test the jet though; push, tease, cajole until the red and white mech could stand it no more and toppled over the edge. Flipping him over, touching him in any way, would make it all too easy. He was a master of games, if one did forget. Arms still folded casually behind his helm, Vortex grinned wickedly up at the flyer above him, watching optics dim in need and feeling soaked walls clutch at him even harder.

"What are you waiting for then? Come on...," the helicopter husked, almost tripping on a name he wasn't supposed to say, "C'mon, _ride me_."

With a whimper and a keen, Air Raid broke out into a frenzied pace, rocking hard against the Decepticon's frame as he clawed towards an overload. Vents hitching, the red visor kept diligent watch on his partner, changing colours and styles of plating in his helm until the Autobot riding him hard was a smaller, more naive one. Ah, Primus... What a delight it would be to have Fireflight ride his spike like this. The need, the desperation... all of what Air Raid was demonstrating now would be reflected and magnified thrice-fold in the youngest flyer. It would truly be the most perfect sight ever.

Or, perhaps he would try something new entirely, something he'd yet to put any of the other aerialbots through. The thought sent a thrill through Vortex, a raspy chuckle escaping him as Air Raid screamed in completion; before the Decepticon rolled the jet over and finished himself off, entertained with make-believe images of little Fireflight.

**xxXxXxx**

Playing a game like theirs took strategy.

It meant understanding your opponent and playing to both their strengths and weaknesses. Fireflight knew Vortex liked keeping score, that he enjoyed the thrill of a hunt and that his preferred way to play was under the veil of subtlety. The less who knew, the better the game became. Sure, the Decepticon could squeeze in time with the flyer whenever but if anything was to move forward drastically, it was going to be up to Fireflight to make it happen.

In the park, alone at the swing sets, populated enough with a few passers-by to not seem strange, and under the warm rays of the late afternoon sun, the board was set. All that was needed now was Vortex's first counter-move.

"Hey there, Snowflake."

And Vortex did not disappoint.

Turning his helm, Fireflight smiled brightly up at the Decepticon standing behind him; servos wrapped around the chains of the swing, mere centimetres above his own. "Hi Vortex!"

"What are you doing here so late in the orn?," the grey mech asked, leaning in closer. His expression was neutral -casual- but the jet caught the faint motion of optics scanning their surroundings beneath the red visor. Spark pulsating erratically, Fireflight tried not to show that he knew what Vortex was doing.

"I was playing with some friends," Fireflight answered. A lie. "But they've all had to go home now. I thought I'd play on the swings a little longer before going home too." Another lie, but it was all part of the game.

Vortex smirked, nodding his helm slightly as he shifted position; servos cupping the leather seat, while his long fingers curled a tad onto the youngling's lap. "I see, I see," the helicopter replied. "Would you care for a push then?"

"Yes," the jet said, a little too breathlessly in his opinion but it didn't seem to bother the grey mech -if he even noticed at all. Wriggling on the seat into a more comfortable position, Fireflight readied himself for the first push, pondering on the other type of "push" he was looking forward to experience. Large servos cupped just under his aft, warm even through the leather, before the Autobot was flying up into the air gently; swinging down in a perfect arc, back into those servos and another push upwards.

"You're a good pusher," Fireflight giggled, unable to resist enjoying himself, "I should ask you to come to the swings with me from now on!" Large servos caught him as he swung back down again, groping his aft a few astroseconds longer than normal.

"Is that so?," Vortex said from behind, amusement (and something else) rich in his tone. "I don't know... I'm awfully busy. I don't think we'd have much time to spend at the park."

An opening. Perfect!

"Well," the youngling beamed, kicking his pedes up when he swung to get a little higher, "Perhaps we can find something else to do together."

His valve clenched excitedly beneath his plating and as he swung back down, Fireflight anticipated what Vortex might say or hopefully do at his seemingly innocent offer. Instead, the jet merely swung back into open air before arcing forward again. Alarmed, Fireflight jumped clear off the swing, landing neatly on his pedes. Vortex, he saw, turning around in confusion, was nowhere to be seen. If it wasn't for the slight impression his pedes had left on the ground behind the swing, it would have appeared as if he hadn't been there at all.

Worry turned to anger quickly as Fireflight hurried to check the nearby trees. The park was void of people and Vortex- a wasted opportunity. Where the helicopter had gone, or why, was a mystery but it didn't subtract from the fact that this wasn't how you played the game. On the verge of frustrated tears, Fireflight was surprised when he caught a glimpse of Skydive hurrying past the park in the direction of their home.

His brother didn't even notice the lone youngling all by himself. Optics narrowing in suspicion, the jet hurried after the older Autobot, taking care to remain unseen.

**xxXxXxx**

"Sure you want to do this?," Vortex asked, grinning viciously. Skydive couldn't see him from where he was strapped face-first down onto his desk, but the youngling trembled hard, already breathless and wet to go. It was almost sort of cute, seeing that the bookworm apparently had a "schoolgirl" fetish.

"P-please...," the jet whispered in short vents, "P-please, just... j-just..."

"Shh, shh, shh," the Decepticon soothed, that unholy smirk still not having yet to leave his face. "It's okay, Skydive. I know. You waited until you were ready to call me and here I am. There's no need to say anything else."

Indeed, what more could be said? Skydive had just made the biggest mistake of his life, texting the Decepticon and asking him that he frag the flyer- and he didn't even know it! It was such a wonderful chance that Vortex couldn't resist jumping on it, despite having to cut the fun short between himself and Fireflight. No matter though, the helicopter thought, grabbing the back of Skydive's helm and lining up for the strike. He'd have plenty of opportunities later to play with his favourite aerialbot... once he'd had his own fun with the kinky nerd.

Driving into the waiting valve, Vortex broke into a vicious pace, pounding the screaming jet's passage merrily; both unaware of the optics watching them angrily from outside the room.

**xxXxXxx**

He didn't want to go to school. Dragging his pedes, Fireflight watched quietly as his brothers pulled ahead of him, getting farther and farther away until they'd almost left the youngling behind entirely. Even Skydive was keeping his regular pace, despite the slight limp he had. Glowering, the smallest jet slowed his pace further, until he was practically standing still. His brothers never noticed and he was glad for it.

"Hey, um, you..."

Surprised, the youngling turned his helm, looking up at the green mech as he approached. Visor dim, fingers scratching uncertainly at the white mouthguard, the Decepticon cleared his vocalizer and tried again. "So, um, hey! You... Eh, listen, not to sound creepy or anything, but," the stranger started again, "Well, I notice you go to the school here and..."

"I know your games," Fireflight interrupted softly.

The green mech immediately straightened up. "...w-what?," he almost squeaked.

The youngling canted his helm a little to the side, studying the stranger. "I know what you're trying to do," he explained, optics bright and curious. "You like me. Don't you?"

At the candid demand, the Decepticon flustered, fidgeting in place uncertainly and glancing around them in nervousness. "You know what, maybe I shouldn't," he muttered, mostly to himself, "I mean, you're young and like, I... it wouldn't go over well and..."

"Would you like to play with me?," Fireflight asked. Immediate silence followed. "I wouldn't mind," the jet added, smiling and rolling his shoulders up to his chin cutely. "I like you. You seem nice."

"O-oh, um... OH...," was all the stranger could get out. He jittered in place, still checking out their surroundings. "A-are you sure? Um, I mean..."

"Well, not right away," the youngling smiled, shuttering his optics shyly at the larger mech. "But, I'll be all grown up in no time and I really would like to get to know you, so, maybe you'd take it slow with me? My name's Fireflight by the way!" He held out his servo for the other to take and, after almost a klik, the Decepticon did so; shyly giving it a little shake.

"H-hi, uh, Fireflight. Name's Scavenger. Um... Yeah. Y-yeah, I can do slow." His optics flared comically as little fingers squeezed tighter around his larger ones, cheekplates actually tinging with a blush.

"Walk me the rest of the way to school then?," the Autobot asked, smiling gently up at the mech. Dumbfounded, Scavenger nodded, falling into pace with Fireflight as he took the lead. This was different, for sure, and not the way that Vortex would approach the game but he was a player nonetheless and that left the youngling to wonder.

On rules, players and possibilities...

**xxXxXxx**

The street was empty as Air Raid rounded the corner; dark and empty and full of blissfully unaware 'bots. Just the way it was supposed to be. Pausing under a street lamp, the jet pulled out a mirror, looking himself over from helm to pede and back to front. There wasn't a smudge anywhere in sight. Grinning, Air Raid slipped the travel mirror back into the bag he was shouldering, double-checked that all his "homework" was within and then sauntered down the block to his house.

Quietly of course. He might have had a cover story set in place but that didn't mean he wanted to wake his family and discuss what he was doing out of the house so late at night.

Watching the windows of every house and grinning widely that, once again, he'd pulled off sneaking away in the dead of night for some fun, Air Raid almost didn't notice something strange about the front of his house.

_Almost._

Slowing to a stop, the Autobot stared in growing horror at the messy _'Air Raid is a desperate con-fragger'_ painted in large, purple letters across the first floor wall. Spark pulsating quickly, the youngling spun around but the block was still empty and the windows still dark, giving no hint as to who wrote the crude message on his house.

**xxXxXxx**

"Did you notice that the house seemed freshly painted?," Skydive asked, walking alongside Silverbolt.

"You mean this morning?," replied the eldest flyer. The grey youngling nodded. "No, I hadn't. Perhaps the dew made it look fresh?"

Skydive mulled that over. "Yes, I suppose. Anyway," he went on as they drew up to the school, "I have to go get some things from my locker before I speak to the teacher. I'll see you after school."

"That's fine," Silverbolt smiled at his brother. "Take care Skydive!"

Waving goodbye to the other jet, Skydive headed down the east corridor, heading straight for his locker. It was still early in the orn and none of the other students had come in yet for classes, so the youngling was very much alone as he came to a stop before his designated space. Humming quietly to himself, Skydive twirled the dial lock, hearing it click successfully and swing open to meet him.

Unexpectedly, the rest of the youngling's books came falling out at the same time, crashing into his flailing arms. Before the Autobot even had a chance to wonder why his things were in a state of disarray, his optics caught something plastered on every surface inside his locker. Spark pulsating fast, fuel tanks roiling in fear, a most disturbing collage of images met his gaze. In cut-out letters between the pictures of him tied down to a desk, valve spread wide with a spike, was the statement _'I know what you are whore'_.

Shrill ringing broke out overhead; the school bell signaling the start of the day. Fighting back sickness, Skydive threw his books back into the locker and slamming it shut again, before making a run towards the closest washroom.

**xxXxXxx**

Usually after lunch, if he was having self-esteem problems, Silverbolt would ask permission to step outside the class and get himself a cup of tea from the cafeteria. It was practically a tradition and all the teachers were sensitive to his personal anxieties so they didn't mind. Feeling such a moment during second-last period, the jet politely requested to leave and accepted the hall pass the teacher gave him as he left. A few kliks later found him in the cafeteria, picking up a cup of tea and heading across the room for some napkins.

The dispensers, for once, were empty so Silverbolt had no choice but to reach just under the counter and grab some napkins from the box sitting there. His servo though didn't touch paper- instead, fingers curled around something small and round. Curious, the aerialbot lifted it up to see what it was... and promptly dropped it into his cup of tea in horror.

The gag ball floated there casually, proudly displaying its _'Why don't you drink this down you spike-sucking freak'_ message for the fear-stricken Autobot to see.

**xxXxXxx**

Dinner was a quiet affair at the aerialbot household, but not usually as stifling as it was now. Jetfire glanced at each of his creations uncertainly, before glancing up at Powerglide, finding that even his sometimes more oblivious mate noticed something was up. Clearing his vocalizer gently, the white mech smiled, opening the floor for conversation. "So, how was school today?"

That would normally produce results; instead, it seemed to tighten the noose around everyone's throats. Everyone that was, except Fireflight.

"The teacher told us we'd be going on a field trip soon!," the smallest jet beamed, bouncing in his chair. "We're going to go into the city and look at several historical landmarks."

"Hey, that sounds like fun!," Powerglide replied, patting the youngling on the helm. "Say, any field trips coming up for you other four?"

There was a disorderly response of shrugs, incomphrensible mumbling and the shaking of helms. Jetfire frowned, feeling his worry deepen. Before he could comment on it though, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!," Fireflight offered happily, jumping to his pedes and skipping away from the table. Silence hung heavily over everyone until the phantom jet returned, holding a small package.

"It was the postman," he informed, taking his seat at the table, holding the parcel out. "It's for you Slingshot!"

"I ain't expecting no mail...," Slingshot muttered to himself quietly. Still, he took the package, looking it over quickly, before putting it in his lap to open. While he was preoccupied, Jetfire decided to take the opportunity to get to the root of this strange and ominous quiet that had taken over his dinner table.

"Now, kids, I understand that sometimes there's not things you like to talk about with me or your sire but-"

Slingshot screamed, kicking the table away as he grabbed Air Raid, tossing his older brother to the floor. A small datapad clattered to the floor in the wake, getting crushed under one pede. "YOU SICK FRAGGER!," he bellowed, falling on the alarmed youngling. "YOU LET THAT FRAGGING FREAK TOUCH YOU?! YOU LIKE RIDING VORTEX'S SPIKE THAT MUCH?!"

"WHAT?!," Skydive screeched, squirming free from his own seat. "You've been sleeping with him too?"

"Too?!" Silverbolt was huffing and puffing, optics glistened with tears. "What do you mean 'too'?! What is wrong with you?"

"Woah! WOAH!" Powerglide threw himself between Slingshot and Air Raid, getting punched a few times before Jetfire intervened; grabbing both younglings and physically pulling them apart.

"Alright! ALRIGHT!," he yelled over the five shouting vocalizers. Turning, the large jet looked down at his youngest creation, who was watching the chaos unfold in quiet astonishment. "Fireflight," Jetfire called, softer, "Fireflight, sweetspark, please go play outside for a while. I think there's something your brothers and I need to discuss."

Nodding, the smallest jet hurried out of the kitchen and through the front door outside, leaving Powerglide and Jetfire to somehow calm and sort out this unexpected mess.

**xxXxXxx**

He'd left the house, as he'd been told, but he did not stay outdoors. The moment the front door had shut behind him, the youngling circled around the house slowly, slipping in through his berthroom window just as he'd seen Vortex do many a time. All the screaming and crying and accusing on the other side of the door muffled any sound that he could have made, if he had made any to begin with.

Sitting comfortably under the window, Fireflight just listened -voices rising, more crying, screaming and the sounds of disgust and shame colouring every word. Slingshot bellowed and raged, fighting with Powerglide for who was the angriest. Air Raid tried excuses before those wore out fast and he screamed just as loudly, quickly turned into a corner by his whole family. Jetfire tried soft words at times but they were lost or wasted and everything he said instead spoke levels of disappointment, betrayal and disgust. Skydive was lost in the midst of all those vocalizers and Silverbolt was almost unnoticeable, sobbing and pleading for understanding while carrying the brunt of everyone's disbelief for the things he did.

It was harmony. Messy, chaotic, hateful and cruel harmony.

It took so much effort not to simply laugh. Smiling widely, Fireflight sat and listened, even as the fighting went on, winding down to tearing, breaking and crying. It had to eventually happen; one way or another, they would have found out about Vortex's game. Silly 'copter though... If he'd just played by their rules, than he wouldn't have had to lose all of his prior trophies.

Oh well, the youngling grinned, optics lit madly in the growing shadows of the room. They had to suffer. Just as Vortex would.

After all, he'd broken the rules first.

Even if that was a lie.

**xxXxXxx**

Something had gone wrong. Vortex watched from afar, growling low under his intakes. He had to duck a little farther into the tree branches as a suspicious helm stuck out of one of the windows, scanning the block quickly before disappearing back inside. Someone had definitely let the cat out of the bag, the Decepticon scowled darkly, fingers subconsciously outlining the large dent in his mask. Now all his little trophies were tarnished, broken and useless!

He couldn't get near a single one, not that he'd want to at this point. They knew what was up; hated him, loathed him, wanted him dead. Even that sleaze Air Raid wanted to tear his spike off and rip his optics out. A touching sentiment, but it just cemented the fact that someone had spoiled his game and lost him all of his former scores. When Vortex found out who blabbed first, he was going to torture them for orns and then for a few orns more, until they stopped begging for death. The wise thing to do at this point, the helicopter knew, was to leave and go find himself some other goodies to score.

Yet he was still lurking, waiting and hungry for the lovely lil' Platinum that he hadn't even the chance to suckle on.

There was the worry that Fireflight may be tarnished too, but his observations of the family had led him to believe that they had wisely kept the youngest flyer out of that conversation. Everyone seemed to be skirting around the phantom jet as well; keeping their distance and their secrets. That bode well for the Decepticon, who, now more than ever, hungered for what sweetness the youngling had to offer. Skulking to the forsaken house, Vortex confirmed that Fireflight was currently not there, then hurried to find the jet. He decided to hit up the park first and gleefully, he caught white plating shining in the beautiful sun.

Straightening up, the helicopter stepped out from hiding, sauntering casually through the park, heading ever closer to his target. He noticed, somewhat belatedly, that the youngling was playing soccer with some classmates. Pausing, Vortex pondered on how to approach this precarious situation, but stopped, realizing that Fireflight was running for him. Stiff with anticipation, it took all of the Decepticon's willpower not to simply reach forward and scoop his precious prize up. He would admit, only to himself, since discovering that he'd lost all his other toys, his lust was feeling boundless at the moment and he was eager for release.

"Hey Sno-"

"Hey Vortex!," Fireflight shouted, running right _past_ the helicopter.

Rotor blades twitched and quietly, Vortex turned on the spot, watching blankly as the youngling ran; giggling and yelling in cheerful greeting as he jumped at a larger, green mech, being caught straight from the air and spun in close to the stranger's frame. Fireflight exchanged words with the other Decepticon, faces too close to each other, his little servos on cheekplates, then shoulders and chestplates. Baby blue optics shuttered in laughter, the green mech's mouthguard just barely nuzzling neck cables as larger servos nestled comfortably just above the flyer's hips.

Vortex tried not to snarl out loud when he saw faces turn back to each other, the faintest glimpse of a kiss catching his attention.

When?

_How?_

This creep, this... this loser! Swept in and stole his gem, the one he'd been gleaning and shaping, waiting until he was just perfect! And now Vortex didn't even have the satisfaction of admiring his incomplete set of aerialbots as they'd all turned to ashes in his servos! This made no sense; this was an outrage!

Rotors flaring wide in rage, the Decepticon studied the other mech, noting every single feature for future reference when he killed the slimy glitch. He wasn't going to let some nobody come in and steal his prey -that's not how the game went. You stuck to a game, you played diligently and at the end, after trial and tribulation you were...

Rewarded. The word Vortex wanted to use was rewarded, but his thoughts had stalled to a pause. For across the field, walking away, were his prize and the idiot who thought he could take him away. But that's not what the Decepticon saw in Fireflight's optics as the youngling glanced back over a wing.

A smirk slowly blossomed on the jet's face, whispering 'You lose' to the grey mech, before naivety returned to that gaze, hiding dark intelligence; Fireflight focusing the entirety of his attention and sweetness on the mech whose arm was wrapped around his back.

Rewarded. Rewarded was what you got when you played the game right... and Vortex hadn't been playing the right game all this time. Smoothing his flared rotors, the helicopter watched as the two disappeared from his view entirely, vowing that he would have Fireflight for his own and unaware that jealousy had taken hold.

**xxXxXxx**

" _ **It only takes a drop of evil to fuck up beautiful people..."**_

**xxXxXxx**

**C.M.D: Welcome to the end~ Was it anything like you expected? I certainly hope I was able to give you an enjoyable read, and watch a sweet 'bot become tainted.... but in a much different way than the norm. Surely this Fireflight won't be the pawn in any more games- he'll be causing a whole lot of trouble and I wonder if Vortex will ever clue in? Perhaps one day I'll write that... but I think it's better to leave things off here. Thanks for stopping by and have a good day!**


End file.
